


Hidden in Plain Sight

by mydeira



Series: Two Faces of Moriarty [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, will the real Moriarty please stand up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-14
Updated: 2012-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-29 12:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From Sherlock’s own mouth, the best place to hide is in plain sight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden in Plain Sight

Of course Moriarty was bored. Agonizing months as poor, often used Molly Hooper would have driven anyone around the bend. That some would argue she’d been there and then some, well, they were limited fools anyway. What did they know?

Right under his nose the entire time, and Sherlock had never even suspected. Pathetic little Molly so eager for a scrap of his attention. Always trying too hard.

Sherlock’s cold dismissals weren’t the worst of it. Hell, she’d counted on Sherlock being utterly true to himself. What use did he have for doe-eyed, slightly dim girls? The disguise had been sheer genius.

No, what was the most unbearable aspect of life as Molly Hooper was the undisguised pity from everyone who wasn’t Sherlock. Mr. Noble himself, Dr. John Watson was the worst offender. One would expect that he would know too well what it was to be pitied and avoid inflicting that insult upon others. The bigger the heart, the greater the irritation.

Then there was Jim. Failed actor trying to make a living on mediocre computer skills. Clueless Molly’s laughable attempts at flirtation through tech trouble had led to several wasted hours correcting the mess Jim left behind. Part of the disguise was a job well done, though not too well, and it was impossible to do even passable with the destruction Jim wrought. And sex was just…ugh. She’d much rather have her nails ripped out one by one—again—than endure that. Moriarty suspected Jim couldn’t have been any worse if he had been gay. At least then he might have known what to do with his cock.

Moriarty drummed her fingers on the mahogany desk where she sat, watching her carefully scripted scene play out. Jim did have one thing to recommend him: his memory was flawless. Crap actor and abysmal lover, but he didn’t drop a single line. She could tell Sherlock wasn’t entirely convinced; he wouldn’t be much of an adversary if he was. But Jim knew all the facts despite his over the top performance, and that was enough to make Sherlock doubt, and in doubting believe. For the moment. But the moment was all Moriarty wanted.

This was only the beginning, after all. She could easily take Sherlock Holmes down with a simple command to her snipers: use the live rounds. But then she’d be even more bored than ever before. No Sherlock meant no challenge. Then what was the point? The thrill and power of manipulation only went so far, and got so old so very fast.

Sherlock would walk away, and his little dog, too. If he hadn’t been so blinded by concern for his friend, he would have seen that this time the bomb wasn’t real. The exercise did confirm that John Watson would be the key to bringing Sherlock down.

“Time to finish the show, darling,” she told Jim in the sweetest voice she could manage. While he knew John Watson’s bomb and the snipers were for show, he was as clueless as the rest about the real explosives concealed a few feet away.

There was, naturally, a very slight risk that Sherlock and his oh so faithful companion might get killed or seriously injured. But Moriarty was a sucker for a gamble. As Sherlock had so far proved that he had more lives than a bloody cat, she felt the odds were most definitely in her favor.

Moriarty initiated detonation. There was just enough time to see Jim’s utter look of surprise before the feed cut out and left her with the soothing sound of static.

Sherlock hadn’t even twitched.

Oh, yes, this was going to be a long, delightful game.

**Author's Note:**

> Written back in August 2010.


End file.
